


love at first sight

by thishasbeencary



Series: man's best friend [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (As in Viktor first meeting Makkachin), First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 22:26:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15129092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thishasbeencary/pseuds/thishasbeencary
Summary: “What do you want, Vitya?” Yakov was eyeing him, and Viktor sucked in a deep breath.“I want a dog.”(Or: Viktor takes care of Makkachin, but Makkachin also takes care of Viktor. A few scenes of the two of them when it was just the two of them.)





	love at first sight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jumpforjo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumpforjo/gifts).



> i was up at 4am this morning to watch the concert and literally fell off of my bed when i saw the movie art, you know?
> 
> i was stalking twitter and jo (who is incredibly sweet and this fic is gifted to bc it's their fault) mentioned that they wanted to see more of bb makkachin. i fervently agreed and throwing back and forth like 3 headcanons landed me _here_ with nearly 5k i wrote in like 2 hours
> 
> i was gonna write like 500 words. i ended up with nearly 5000 bc i added in viktor falling in love with yuuri. 
> 
> it ended up less a story about makkachin as a bb and more a study of viktor and makkachin's relationship. again. enjoy <3

Viktor had to be serious, but not _too_ serious. If he was too serious, Yakov would think he was up to something and say no. If he wasn’t serious enough, Yakov would still say no.

“Yakov?” Viktor knocked on his coach’s door after practice, his bag hanging on his shoulders and his jacket zipped only halfway. “Can I talk to you?”

Yakov looked up in surprise, and Viktor brought the smile back to his face. Yakov looked slightly suspicious, but nodded. Viktor walked into his office, setting his bag onto one of the chairs and pulling his legs underneath himself in the other. Yakov eyed him (always telling him that he shouldn’t sit on his legs so he didn’t hurt himself), and Viktor tugged his legs out from underneath him, planting them firmly on the ground.

“We can’t change your music this late, Vitya,” he started, and Viktor blinked, shaking his head. He ran his fingers nervously through the end of his long hair, breathing out.

“It’s not about skating. I was just thinking… I didn’t really like being home alone when you and Madame Baranovskaya went to competition with Gosha. And I know you couldn’t do anything about that, and he’s not ready to move up to seniors, and even if he was, we wouldn’t necessarily be in the same competitions – “

“What do you want, Vitya?” Yakov was eyeing him, and Viktor sucked in a deep breath.

“I want a dog,” he answered. “Then I don’t have to be alone. I’m glad I stay with you and Madame Baranovskaya because it’s incredibly beneficial for my skating, since I can’t live on my own yet, and you’re so close to the rink, but your place is kind of… old. And when no one else is there, it makes weird noises, and I want someone else there.”

“A dog is a big responsibility to take on because of a couple creaky floorboards,” Yakov said, and Viktor tried not to look disappointed. He knew there was a possibility of Yakov saying no, since he stayed with them after all. They might not want a dog in their apartment, and he knew that it was a lot of work to take care of, but he wanted a dog so badly. He’d thought through it all.

“I know. I can take care of one! I’ve been reading everything you need to do, and I made a budget for everything.” Viktor slid the paper forward. It was a rough draft of a budget, no set ideas on what he wanted, only price ranges. He had more than enough money to start with the dog. “And taking walks would be good to keep me jogging, and to exercise it. I promise I can take care of it by myself. If you want, I can get one that like… doesn’t bark or something.”

“Vitya,” Yakov said, and Viktor’s shoulders slumped, knowing he was about to say no. His coach looked back down at the budget that Viktor had created, setting his hand over the sheet of paper. “Let me think about it. Go home and start on dinner.”

It wasn’t a _no_ , so Viktor clung tightly to his skate bag. “Thank you, Yakov! Just tell me if I need something more!” He called out, rushing from Yakov’s office.

* * *

Yakov was arranging a visit with a nearby shelter that apparently had plenty of puppies that needed homes. He told Viktor that he would drive him there on Tuesday after practice, so long as he practiced as hard as he could and listened to Yakov.

It sounded a little like bribery, that he had to do _exactly_ what Yakov wanted of him to get his dog, but Viktor also wasn’t going to complain. Yakov had agreed after practically no questions, and was going to take Viktor there and help him get the dog. There were plenty of reasons that Yakov could have said no, or he could have told Viktor that he had to take care of finding the dog on his own if he did say yes, but Yakov was helping him, so Viktor had to make sure that he took the best care of the dog that he possibly could.

He’d already researched most of what a dog would need, but he looked it all up again, staring at the too-bright screen in the dark of his room. He hadn’t been able to sleep, and he didn’t have practice tomorrow, so he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

He pulled a notebook from his bed, usually reserved for skating programs and potential music, but he tore those pages out. It was pretty new, so the bright blue notebook was converted to a much more important use – how to take care of a dog.

He had to make a list of what he needed, so that Yakov would drop him off at the store, if he convinced him that he could get finished fast and he would jog back home. It wasn’t that bad to Yakov’s apartment, but it wasn’t very close to the rink.

Quickly, he wrote down food and bed, writing down multiple brands of food that he website listed so he’d be able to ask which one would be best. He didn’t know what kind of dog he was going to get yet, but he needed at least a little bit of food to start with. He’d like to take the dog to the store with him when he picked out treats, so he wrote that on his list but no particular brand.

A collar, a leash, bowls, a bed (Yakov said that he dog wasn’t allowed to sleep in Viktor’s bed; Yakov was going to be wrong about that but Viktor would humor him). The list grew and grew and grew until Viktor was happy and sure that he could actually take care of a dog.

He set the notebook next to his bed, curling up underneath the softest of his blankets, listening to the soft sounds of Georgi listening to music in the other room. He was pretty sure that it was a song he was thinking about for his short program next year.

He yawned, setting his head against the pillow, ready to go to sleep, finally feeling prepared to raise his dog, but then his eyes shot open, wide.

 _Names_.

Of course, he wouldn’t name his dog until he actually met them, but he wanted to have options, just in case he couldn’t think of something then. He didn’t want to not be able to name his dog because he panicked and couldn’t think of anything.

Viktor pulled himself out of bed, grabbing a ponytail and tugging his hair back up into a messy bun, grabbing the notebook and the nearest pen. He sat back in front of the computer, turning it back on and squinting at the screen. He didn’t want a common name for his dog, so all of the common dog name websites were entirely skipped over. He also didn’t want them to have _too_ human a name, because he didn’t want to _meet_ someone with his dog’s name.

He wrote down a few names, starting at the unfortunately short list. He tried another search, and another, until he had lists and lists of names he may not use.

Hopefully, he’d see his dog on Tuesday, and he’d just know what their name was supposed to be.

* * *

Viktor didn’t really know how to do this. When people met the person that they were going to fall in love with, they knew that person was ‘the one’. Something about the two of them _clicked_ , and they knew that they could last together through anything.

It had to be a similar process. While a dog and a lover had entirely different roles in your life, they shared some things in common. Viktor wanted a dog because he wanted someone to spend his time with. He wanted to be less lonely when he was home alone and all he had was skating. He had friends, of course, and his parents would always let him call them, but he wanted someone he could talk to at three in the morning when a floorboard in Yakov and Lilia’s place creaked, but Georgi wasn’t home to be the one sneaking around that late.

He had to _click_ with his dog. He had to know that they were the one he would be able to count on to keep him company, and that he would be able to provide them so much love in return.

Viktor walked up to the front desk of the shelter, squaring his shoulders so he would appear at least a little older. “Hi! I’m Viktor Nikiforov,” he introduced. “I’m here because I’d like to adopt a dog?” He pointed toward Yakov. “He arranged a meeting for me. Yakov Feltsman?”

The person behind the counter nodded, leading him back to the door, opening a lock and letting him walk into a room where there were a couple puppies playing on the floor. They were all adorable but…

Viktor saw the poodle and blinked a few times, realizing it was staring right back at him. She dropped the toy that she was trying to take from another dog and went racing toward him, knocking into his legs before any of the other dogs even really noticed he was there. Viktor, caught off guard, laughed and slipped to the ground, reaching out to meet the poodle who had rushed him.

Other puppies were racing forward, but Viktor was enamored. The poodle had soft brown fur and big, excited eyes that he could barely see through the ball of fluff. She started to lick at his face, barking excitedly as she covered him in big doggy kisses.

“Yakov!” he shouted, petting her soft fur and standing up, holding the wiggling ball of fur in his arms and laughing when she squirmed until she could lick up his face again. “Can I get her?”

Yakov really did have final say in what dog Viktor got, despite the fact that Viktor promised to take care of the dog completely, and he would, no matter what it took. It was still Yakov’s place, for as long Viktor stayed there and trained with him, so he had to make the final call.

Yakov didn’t say yes or no, but looked at Viktor for a moment before setting the bag that he had brought onto the floor, pulling something out of it. “What are you going to name her?” Yakov asked, handing Viktor the leash. He clipped it to his puppy’s collar, but didn’t bother putting her on the ground. Was his dog going to be the most spoiled puppy in the entire universe? Probably. But the people at the shelter said that she was going to get _big_ , and fast, so he didn’t want to waste any time that he was able to carry her and let her wiggle around in his arms.

Viktor lit up, his eyes wide, because that was as good as a yes. The people at the counter handed him the paperwork, and he took it happily.

As for Yakov’s question, Viktor looked at the puppy in his arms and he _knew_ , even though it was on none of the lists that he made. He wrote her name down and stared down at the tiny dog in his arms, hugging her close.

“Are you ready to come home, Makkachin?”

* * *

Viktor burst through the door, his long braid smacking hard into his back with how quickly he was moving. He tripped over his feet a little bit trying to catch his balance, his suitcase banging into his ankles. He just wanted to get inside and show Makkachin what he had just gotten.

“Be careful,” Lilia scolded, and Viktor nodded, straightening his shoulders as he walked the rest of the way back to his room, even though he threw that door open as well. He jumped onto his bed, and laughed when Makkachin jumped up with him.

“Did you miss me? I missed you. I bet Gosha took such good care of you.” Viktor wrapped his arms around Makkachin’s neck, pressing kisses against her as she licked his face. He laughed, leaning against her soft fur for a few moments before jumping up.

“Makka! I have something to show you!” He pulled his bag over to his bed, climbing up and calling Makkachin up. He stood up so he could reach the shelf with her treats, handing her one before unzipping his bag, taking out the carefully wrapped package.

“You don’t know what this is,” Viktor said, sliding his fingers against the cool gold of the medal. He let his fingers fall into the hollow center, wrapping his hand around it and sliding it over his neck for Makkachin to see. “A gold medal. And I got it from the Olympics.”

He had explained everything about figure skating to Makkachin before he’d left, but he still felt the need to explain to his dog again, “That’s the biggest competition there is, Makkachin. They film it, and the whole world watches, and I was the best in the _whole world_ , so I got this medal. This is the beginning of me being the very best.”

He pulled it over Makkachin’s head, smiling when he saw her look down at it. He grabbed his camera off of the table and took a picture of her, laughing before he took the medal back, facing his camera toward himself and taking a few quick shots before setting them both back down, wrapping his arms around Makkachin.

“You should have seen Yakov’s face. He was so excited, Makkachin. This is a big deal. I hope I can win another.” He picked up the medal, bouncing to the other side of his room and hanging his medal up on the hooks that Georgi had helped him set up. They were already full of medals, so he tugged off one of his silvers from juniors, setting it into the drawer so he could find somewhere to put it later.

He hung the Olympic medal from the loop and looked back at Makkachin, jumping onto his bed. “Let’s start picking music for my next season!” he wrapped his arms around her neck and grabbed his notebook, leaning on his dog as he started to listen to the songs on his list.

He let her bark her approval for the best ones.

* * *

“It’s different, right?” Viktor turned his head to the side, and Makkachin barked. “But not bad?” She didn’t answer, and he had to tell himself that it wasn’t a bad sign because his dog wasn’t trained to respond to literally every question that he asked, she was just trained to respond to her name in a question.

He ran his fingers through his new bangs, swallowing down his nervousness and picking his bag off of the floor, taking Makkachin’s leash into his hand. He pulled his hood over his head so no one would see it before he told Yakov.

“Yakov is going to freak out, Makkachin. I mean, he doesn’t _care_ , especially since it’ll be for a new season, but he doesn’t like when I make decisions like these.” He tucked his hair into his hood, pinning it above his head so he was able to be adequately hidden, even though Makkachin was perfectly noticeable.

“I just was ready, you know? I keep winning and winning, this is a good surprise! Everyone can be focused on my hair, and I can work on my jumps. I think I’ll have the flip soon, Makkachin. Yakov doesn’t really like that I’m practicing, but he knows it’s best for where I’m going next, so he lets me. If I can land that, no one is ever going to win against me again.” Viktor frowned, looking down at Makkachin.

“I don’t know if I want that for too long, though. Doesn’t that sound boring? Yakov says it’s a good thing, since it will keep me with a lot of sponsors and fans and I’ll be able to continue to skate for a long time if I’m good and take care of my body. I want to keep skating…” He sighed, letting his shoulders sag, watching the people around them. As they approached his apartment, he let Makkachin in, stepping in behind her and hanging up his coat and her leash. He unwound his scarf from his neck, hanging it on the hook and then sitting on the floor.

“Come here?” He didn’t have to ask, but he wasn’t feeling sure about anything today. As soon as Makkachin had climbed into his lap (because he didn’t care how big she was, she was eternally his lap dog), he buried his face in her fur. “Tell me this wasn’t a good idea. I look good with short hair, right, Makka?” She barked and Viktor smiled, even though he knew that was going to be the answer.

“And it’s hair! It could grow back. It’s just something new. Maybe I’ll end up liking it. It’ll take less time to get ready to skate! That’s exciting, right, Makkachin?” She barked again.

“I love you,” he whispered, wrapping his arms tight around her neck. “I’m glad I have you, Makkachin. I don’t know what I’d do without you, even without the creaky floors.”

Makkachin barked, licking his face with kisses to wipe away his tears.

He hadn’t even realized he was crying.

* * *

“Makkachin!” Viktor skidded into his apartment at the same time that his dog ran forward, nearly tackling him into the door. He dropped to the door, wrapping his arms around her. “Did Mr. and Mrs. Petrov take good care of you?” he cooed, scratching his fingers against her fur. “I bet they did. You want a treat, while I tell you all about the competition?”

He let her go, whistling as he walked into his kitchen, sorting through the multiple brands of dog treats, his finger pressed against his lip as he picked the best one to give to Makkachin after so long apart. He settled on her favorite, an obvious choice, pulling one from the cabinet and dropping to his knees to feed it to her. “Come sit with me on the couch, Makka.”

Makkachin immediately followed, appease by the treat and knowledge that _of course_ Viktor would spoil her with pets as soon as she sat down. He sat on the couch, laying out and resting his back against the arm rest and she clambered up, settling right into his lap. He laughed, but it was what he wanted.

He started to stroke her fur, tilting his head back so he could stare at the ceiling. “I got a gold medal,” he said, even though he didn’t care all that much. What was a gold medal at this point? It would just go into the trophy cabinet, replacing one of the older medals of the same color, which will be tucked into a drawer. No one needed that many medals. “Yakov was glad because I broke my record again.”

He stared thoughtfully at the ceiling, wrapping his arms around Makkachin and burying his face against her neck, letting a little sob escape his mouth. “I don’t know if I want to skate next season, Makka. Usually by now, I’d want to pick my music, but…” Viktor shook his head. “We still have to finish this season, right, Makka?” He paused to let her bark, rubbing his tears from his eyes.

“I met a boy, Makkachin,” he said almost as a whisper next. “I don’t know how much he really remembers about us meeting, but he was so amazing. He skated like he was one of my fans, I could tell from some of the elements he put in. It was… not the strongest program, but I looked him up, and he’s so good at skating. Do you want to watch, Makka?”

Viktor asked, grinning when, of course, Makkachin immediately barked. Viktor rubbed her head, grabbing his phone and pulling up his favorite of Yuuri’s programs that he’d found. It was older, but he was still just as graceful, and his performance was much better than the one Viktor had seen. He struggled with his jumps, and Viktor frowned. “He asked me to be his coach, Makkachin. I could help him out. Imagine what he could do if I could teach him how to jump properly.”

He pulled up a few more of Yuuri’s programs, thinking more about what had been happening. He wouldn’t mind coaching Yuuri, but he’d like him to initiate the conversation. Maybe he could still look up prices to Japan? He also had to start researching how to get Makkachin there.

“Do you think he likes dogs?” Viktor frowned. “I’ll see him again at worlds. This competition was a fluke for him, I can tell. He has so much talent and grace, I can’t even imagine him not making it to worlds. I want to see him take the medal from me, Makkachin. That’s how beautiful his programs were.”

Viktor stopped, thinking about what he had just said and his eyes grew wide, realizing finally what all of these feelings he had been struggling with for the past day were. He covered his hands with his mouth, calming down before being able to talk to his dog again. This was more serious than he thought.

“Makkachin,” Viktor whispered, all of his thoughts suddenly making a little more sense as he sat up straight. Sudden tears sprang to his eyes, a physicality of the sudden emotions that he hadn’t been expecting to feel. Makkachin licked at them while he tried to settle his thoughts, his heart beating at his throat. “Makkachin, I think I’ve fallen in love.”

* * *

Viktor was in the middle of making breakfast when his phone started to buzz, and he ignored it, singing loud pop songs with Makkachin barking along as his accompaniment. He laughed, dancing around his kitchen as he made his diet-approved breakfast, slightly frustrated at the multitude of friends calling and texting him, continuing to interrupt his music again and again. He stepped over Makkachin, grabbing the jam from his fridge as the kettle started to go off, just as Chris called again.

“Makka, they’re all trying to ruin our breakfast again, aren’t they?” Viktor huffed, waiting until he’d turned off the stove, picking his breakfast up and putting it on the table with his tea, going over to grab his phone from the speaker. He got rid of the messages from Yakov and Yuri right away, he already told them that he wasn’t going to the rink today because he didn’t know what he wanted to skate yet (or if he even wanted to).

He sighed, brushing notifications away from everyone before he got _another_ call from Georgi, and he answered, flopping into his chair and starting to eat his breakfast. “What is it, Gosha? You and Chris and Mila and Yura have been blowing up my phone all morning. I don’t want to go to the rink. You can tell Yakov he can make me do figures or whatever next time.”

He huffed down a few more bites of his breakfast.

“Have you seen it, Vitka?” Georgi asked, and Viktor rubbed his hand over his face. Seen what? Had someone written something about him again that Yakov didn’t like the tone of? That wouldn’t explain the calls from Chris, but it would from the rest of the Russian team.

“Gosha, can’t I deal with this another day? Makkachin and I are going to eat breakfast and then go to the park.” Makkachin perked up at the mention of the park and Viktor laughed, tossing her a piece of his food, even though she had a perfectly good bowl of food on the floor.

“Vitka, you don’t even know,” Georgi gasped, and Viktor sighed. This was going to be a long conversation if Georgi was going into dramatics. He loved Georgi, but he didn’t want to deal with this right now.

“Know what?” he humored Georgi, because it would get him out of this call and to the park faster. He finished his breakfast, setting his plate into the sink to deal with after their walk and walking out into the living room, flopping onto his couch to talk to Georgi.

“Yuuri Katsuki skated your program,” Georgi answered, and Viktor sat up straight, banging his head into Makkachin, who had climbed onto his lap. She whimpered, and he apologized, distractedly running his hands through her fur.

“It’s online? Gosha, you sent me the link, right?” Viktor asked, unlocking his phone to go through his texts, finding the link with wide eyes and settling back onto the couch.

“I assume you already found it?” Georgi asked, laughing lightly and Viktor nodded.

“Yes, I have it.”

“Come to the rink tomorrow, Vitka. Yakov’s getting frustrated, because I think he’s worried about you,” Georgi added. Viktor frowned.

“I’ll talk to him later. I have to watch this. Thank you, Gosha.” He hovered his finger over the button until Georgi said his goodbye, hanging up and opening the video.

He lost track of how many times he watched it.

“Makkachin,” Viktor whispered, gazing into the eyes of the dog that had chosen him so many years ago. He hugged her close, letting the video play on his phone again, even though he couldn’t see it. “We’re going to go to Japan.”

Makkachin barked, rushing to the door and pulling on the edge of her leash, staring at Viktor with wide eyes. Of course she had only heard ‘go’ and assumed that he meant he was going to take her on her promised walk. He laughed, dropping his phone onto the couch, letting the video continue to play as he took the leash down and clipped it onto her collar.

“This wasn’t really what I meant, but I guess we can go on a walk.” He opened the door, letting her lead the way as he thought about their next adventure. “I bet there’s a lot of good places to walk in Japan, what about you, Makka?”

She barked, a command he’d taught her long ago from days and days of having long conversations with his dog. She was very good at knowing when he was asking her a question. He nodded his head, staring at the road ahead of them.

If he wanted to go to Japan, he’d have to call Yakov, and ask him to help him make his retirement statement. He knew that Yakov wouldn’t be happy with that, and he knew that he would definitely fight him on coaching Yuuri, but Viktor wanted nothing else. Viktor wanted to go to Japan, and he wanted to see Yuuri again. He wanted to take a season away from being the best and try to help someone else, with so much beauty and grace and potential.

He wanted to spend more time with his dog, who of course was going to come to Japan with him. He hadn’t gone on many international flights with Makkachin, but he’d figure out how to get her on the plane, because he couldn’t leave without her. Mr. and Mrs. Petrov were good babysitters, but he was not about to leave her with his neighbors for an entire season while he goes to Japan and chases down a boy he wants to coach (and maybe kiss, if Yuuri would let him. He _really_ hoped that Yuuri would let him). She’d come to Japan with him.

Makkachin was getting impatient, tugging on her leash when Viktor accidentally stopped walking, frozen in thought about what was coming next for them. He laughed, leaning down to scratch her ears. She barked, licking along his face, as if to tell him he was forgiven as soon as they started to walk again. And she was right, of course. She was always right.

He could buy tickets to Japan when they got home.

Right now, it was time to walk his dog.

* * *

The first time that Makkachin met Yuuri, she tackled him to the ground and licked his face.

If Viktor knew this, he would have known right then that it was meant to be.

Even though he didn’t have this hint, he still managed to figure it out.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you as always for reading <333 kudos/comments/bookmarks are always appreciated, if you enjoyed, please let me know!
> 
> my blog is [yoyoplisetsky](http://yoyoplisetsky.tumblr.com), if you want to see me scream about the potential for viktor backstory, i'd recommend following.


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